


The Long Road Leading from The Mansion to North Salem

by PmPFiction



Category: Suicide Squad (2016), Suicide Squad (Comics), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Can't Write, Crossover, F/F, Inspired, Long Awaited, Marvel - Freeform, No idea what I'm doing, Shipping, Suicide Squad, X-men - Freeform, dc, legacy, otp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8972602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PmPFiction/pseuds/PmPFiction
Summary: “So can you get a girl off with your mind?”*Limited Proofing, fix it in your head.





	1. Firecracker Snap

**Author's Note:**

> For the one person who needed it, I'm sorry it had to be me delivering. 
> 
> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart

The red haired woman awoke to the sound of a crack. Scared and startled she threw her body out of the bed and scanned as far as she could, half-awake as she was. Her psychic abilities picked up little more than the risqué dreams of teenagers fast asleep throughout the school. She was relieved to find everything to be alright, but the feeling was there. Something wasn't alright. That crack sounded so real, but at the same time had sounded distant. She felt small. Hell she always felt small. The most powerful woman in the world, the mutant who had destroyed worlds on a whim, been killed for it, and then had the gall to get better. Jean Grey felt small, and it seemed as if nothing could change that.

The next morning she stumbled absentmindedly into the kitchen of the mansion and managed to float a cereal box and bowl from the cabinets to the counter where she flopped her tired body. The startle of the previous night had really winded her, she could barely keep her eyes open. Just as she got the refrigerator open and the milk lifted from its shelf a loud  _ BANG _ went off right behind her. “Gah!” Jean exclaimed as she fell out of her stool and the milk pitcher shattered on the floor across from her. “Jesus G,” Jubilation stood over her in that same yellow rain jacket she had been wearing since, well forever. Hardly capable of forming a sentence due to her intense laughter, she continued, “Didn’t think you’d be that easy to shake.” Jean looked up at the woman, “You’re a cunt Jubilee.” Her turn of phrase did not seem to faze the child of the 90’s. Jubilee continued across the room to make her own breakfast as Jean recovered from her spill. “What are you even doing here Jubilee? I thought you shacked up with some boy in the city.” “That boy,” she reacted as she split a pop-tart in half “doesn’t have free food. Or for that matter, dreamy eyes.” She winked at Jean and started chewing a little too seductively. It honestly made Jean uncomfortable, but she knew to just play along with the girl’s whims. “Oh yeah, it’s the eyes you’re after.” She floated the pastry box toward herself and got her own. Jubilee gave her a peck on the cheek as she pranced toward the archway back out of the kitchen. “You know you love it,” she threw over her shoulder with a firecracker snap. The girl was gone and Jean rubbed her aching forehead. She loved the kid, but that fall hurt more than she wanted to let on. After cleaning up the kitchen she found her headphones, changed into workout clothes, and made way to the door. She looked around the empty front lobby and felt a solemnness she only could when she was completely alone. Given that it was a Saturday all of the kids and teachers were out on their own devices. It seemed a shame to forgo a morning to herself, but a regimen is a regimen.

The long road leading from the Mansion to North Salem was a long and winding path, ideal for long lonely runs. Jean pounded down the path at a pace enhanced by the paranoid chill that seemed to hang in the air. One would think that taking the same path she took every day would have instilled a sense of safety in the woman, but something just wasn’t right. Scans showed nothing out of the ordinary though so she kept on. That is until the blinding blue light hit her. In a flash she found herself somewhere completely unfamiliar, completely out of it, and completely naked.

 


	2. The Smallest Tick in The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart  
>  **Ch. 2 - "Sex (I'm A)" by Berlin.**

“Ah.” Jean squeaked as she started to regain her senses at the touch of another woman. She didn’t know the beautiful girl from Eve, but she wasn’t going to complain. The gentle massaging of her arms actually seemed to help her get her bearings and take count of the warehouse. Two men and at least 6 women, other than herself and her new friend. She also found it worth noting that there wasn’t a stitch in that building and the thoughts people where having were of the sauciest of natures.  _ This is an orgy.  _ The thought came to her just as the two men approached her from the shadows. “Hello, and where exactly did you come from beautiful?” questioned the shorter man. “Indeed, the lady is of an eloquent character, what disturbance could have landed the empress among the common rabble,” called the taller man. She found the two’s odd couple performance strange, and the fact that some mental blocks kept her from figuring out more than the fact that they were both named Psycho was troubling in the least. She had to admit though, nothing seemed particularly dangerous about the two. It seemed that everyone there wanted to be there, and no one was hurt. Maybe this is what she needed.  _ Scott _ . She remembered the dick who left her for that blonde replacement. “Don’t think about that dick,” the shorter man interjected. “Yes empress, join in our festivities. If it please you?” The demeanor of the men made the game all that easier to play. “O-kay.” She let out as she extended her hand out to the men.  _ I need this. _

_ TICK.  _ That was it. The smallest tick in the world upended the illusion. In an instant the shorter Psycho was a head shorter, and the promiscuous party goers dispersed as children at recess. Jean Grey was stunned by the mental release caused by the shorter man’s intense and immediate agony. She felt every microsecond of it, as she always did, but also took comfort in being able to hang on to a life longer than anyone else. Snapping out of it allowed her to see that the warehouse had been swiftly and brutally infiltrated. The taller man has been dispatched quite adequately by a syringe administered by a man clearly not sanctioned by any medical facility. He fell next to the body of his shorter companion writhing as the drugs consumed him. Having gathered enough sense to know that it was time to move, she ran toward the cracked window where the “tick” hole now resided and came within 3 yards of the exit when an absolute beast of a man put his hand out and held her in place. Needless to say Jean had little issue hurdling this man in to the air and through the damaged window. However, her dash toward the exit was again foiled, this time by a stunning blonde, and her even more stunning jewelry. Jean had never really bought into the sparkling rock fad, but these where different, they made her… sleepy.


	3. Handcuffed to a Bolted Down Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart  
> Ch. 2 - "Sex (I'm A)" by Berlin.  
>  **Ch. 3 - "Oye Como Va" by Santana**

Jean awoke unceremoniously slouched in an uncomfortable metal chair; handcuffed to a bolted down table. Keeping her cool was generally a skill she took pride in, today was no exception. The interrogation room had a one-way window where she presumed she was being watched from, but a distinct lack of surveillance otherwise. Clearly less than savory events took place in here. “Ow! Damn.” Jean exclaimed as she came out of her analytical place to the feeling of a needle in her neck. Her mental sense instantly shortened and blurred, preventing her from hearing the thoughts of her attacker. “Sorry honey, can’t have you rooting around where you’re not welcome, and I assure you, you are not welcome.” As the interrogator paced across the room into the light Jean realized it was the bejeweled blonde from the warehouse. “Where’s your rock?” Jean offered in an attempt to keep composure. “I lent it to a friend. The same friend you will need to thank for that shirt.” She pointed her pencil toward Jean who looked down. She had been graciously clothed in a baby-doll tee reading  _ Ivy League Girl _ . “Cute...” she said, “Look where the hell am I? Do you need me to call my representatives or—.” She was cut off “I think you will have some significant difficulty getting a signal,” the interrogator offered to the growingly confused woman. She leaned forward and with a stern faced explained “I’m Jewelee, senior member and physic specialist of Task Force X, and you are?” “Jean Grey, senior member and psychic specialist of just about every ‘X’ team on Earth, can’t say I’ve heard of yours.” The women’s faces where building in tempered rage and growing closer by the second. The heat from the overhanging lamp engendered beads of sweat down both of their faces. “Well I can’t say that this is your Earth.”

That took Jean for a loop. Not the other earth part, hell her daughter was from one, no it was the way Jewelee said it. Her confidence was irritating, not to mention the sound of her voice. That shrill combined with her block face brought to mind those pointless little statues  _ he _ had kept on his desk. The  _ bitch _ had thought it endearing, Jean had thought it creepy. “Hey!” Jewelee snapped in her face to bring her out of her ever more frequent daze. “Did you hear me?” Jean didn’t much care for this woman. “Yeah, so what? Who can I go to for help in this place? I guess I need to find my way back.” Jewelee grimaced, she had picked up on the disdain in her voice. “Well if you’re going to be like that.” She collected her papers and headed for the exit. “The office at the end of the hall, talk to ‘The Wall’,” with that the deflated interrogator flipped a switch by the door that loosened the cuffs holding Jean back. She waited for the walking reminder to clear the hallway before letting herself out.


	4. Foolish People Falling Through Time and Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart  
> Ch. 2 - "Sex (I'm A)" by Berlin.  
> Ch. 3 - "Oye Como Va" by Santana  
>  **Ch. 4 - "You Better Run" by Pat Benatar**

“So can you get a girl off with your mind?” she threw out as she crossed the room to her over-flowing desk, barely acknowledging the admittedly captivating woman. Jean was caught off guard, but still managed a glare at the back of the admittedly arousing woman’s head. “I can’t say I’ve tried,” she responded before sticking her hand out “I’m Jean.” “And I’m your boss for the next 48 hours, if you don’t like it,  _ hmpf _ , you should hear the list of things I don’t like.” Jean pulled her hand back and crossed her arms trying to look unimpressed. The truth was that she was very impressed. This ‘Wall’ was a steady woman. It must be the stressful situation, or maybe it’s something about her new boss, but Jean felt a greater challenge had been presented in this woman than any dimension hopping could conjure. “I’m sorry, what?” Jean asked in the sternest voice she could muster. Her efforts were in vain as ‘The Wall’ snapped back, “The floozy we found naked in the middle of a D-list super villain orgy doesn’t get to ‘What?’ Amanda Waller.” That made Jean back up in dismay. She went to say something else, but was cut off again by the woman in charge. “We know you aren’t from here Ms. Grey. This isn’t the first time ARGUS has dealt with foolish people falling through time or space or… where ever the hell you people keep coming from. We’ll figure out how to get you back, but first my team needs to take care of some nonsense going on in Opal City. You go with them and help control the situation. Talk to Mr. Lawton he’ll get you outfitted in something less… clever.” She gestured her papers at the overly fitting outfit. Jean could not believe the audacity of this Amanda Waller. She collected her confidence and slammed her fist down on Waller’s desk, “So you abduct me, send a bimbo to interrogate me, tell me I’m on the wrong plane of existence, draft me onto some task force, and decide the best way to introduce yourself is by asking if I can arouse women with my mind?” Waller gave her the face one would expect Amanda Waller to give, 

“Well, can you?” 

“Hoe fuck you!” 

_ CRACK _

This comment had earned the girl more than a crack across the face, but it’s what Amanda Waller had at the time. She pushed the call button on her desk phone and ordered out “Someone come collect their new team mate. She’s in need of some assistance... finding her way.” Now, it may have been in her head, but as the men hauled Jean Grey into the lobby Amanda Waller felt a subtle twinge that seemed to travel up her body from her nether region. What was Jean Grey dreaming?


	5. Until One Actually has to Begin The Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart  
> Ch. 2 - "Sex (I'm A)" by Berlin.  
> Ch. 3 - "Oye Como Va" by Santana  
> Ch. 4 - "You Better Run" by Pat Benatar  
>  **Ch. 5 - "Shining Star" by Earth Wind and Fire**

Amanda’s day had started beautifully. She awoke some 20 minutes before the alarm, the perfect amount of time to continue sleeping until one actually has to begin the day. After a thorough shower Waller made her way to the kitchen, or rather, the kitchen corner. The privacy offered in her quarters was exquisite when compared to her constituents, but it was still a studio apartment on the edge of a military base. Over apple juice she reviewed the daily agenda sent to her ARGUS issued computer tablet. Some training routines, staff evaluations, other corporate nonsense that had no business in her world. The bright side of course being that she might get home on time, a rarity in the life of the busiest woman in the world. She tossed the computer on the counter and reached for her personal joy, the daily newspaper. Planet, Gazette, Picture News even, its not like there was a practical reason for it. The news was always days behind what she got at her work and the writing was hardly stellar, but something about newsprint reminded her of home, whatever that was. The funnies especially, mind you they were never funny, but the tingle of the past was worth a few minutes of awful puns. Unfortunately this quite morning was lost to the present she now called home.  _ SWIP.  _ Amanda instinctively dived from her tall bar stool at the sound of the shot, spilling and scattering her routine on to the floor around her. She gained her senses quickly and shot straight up, pistol levied in her hands. “Assholes,” she lowers the gun upon seeing what the shot really was. Avoiding shattered glass sprung from the broken window she crossed the room and pulled the arrow out of her wall. A note was attached that she knew would ruin her plans of a light day.

“Crackpots are getting close aren’t they?” Jewelee placed the arrow back on Amanda’s office desk and reached for the note. “Any idea who’s using pink these days?” Amanda responded as she crossed the room to water the window plant, as she did daily. “Couldn’t say, my question is how many of these street punks are using damn bows and arrows?” “No idea, but based on this they’re planning something big in Opal City tonight.” She waved the note as she spoke and Amanda snatched it from the blonde’s hand. “But why did they want me to know about it?” Jewelee reeled effortlessly from this all too common display of  _ meager _ power Amanda Waller had over her. “I don’t see how it matters. I’ll lead a team this evening into the city, we take the building and neutralize the threat before morn-.” Amanda cut her off with a flat handed  _ thud _ to her desk, “Woman so help me, you don’t call shots. We’ve discussed this.” Waller was looking the frustrated woman directly in the eyes, almost like an equal, almost. She continued, “Look, I consult with you, let you in on more than the others because you’re smart. Your trash boyfriend fried and it made you a better person, which is an opportunity most don’t get, but do not think for a damn minute that  _ you _ have any say in what  _ you _ do.” The Wall had come out for the first time today as she grabbed the stern but scared woman’s face close. “Now, you will lead a team that I will assign to that tower tonight, and you will take the building and you will neutralize the threat. But you will do it, because I told you to.” She noticed that Jewelee had a tendency to sweat when she talked to her like this, it was a sign that she was listening. The woman, put in her place, nodded and left the office to attend to the other thing she had been told to do by someone appointed as her handler.

_ The poor girl  _ Amanda thought as she slumped back into her desk chair. She had hardly begun to recount the inspiring classic tale of Jewelee when a voice beckoned her from the desk phone. “Wall, you’re gonna want to see this, the interrogation of our traveler is getting heated.” She rose from her chair with a distinct disinterest, but made her way to the room opposite the interrogation between the reinvigorated Jewelee and the fair faced fiery haired sharp tonged vixen. Actually her words weren’t it, it was her eyes. For a woman who had just fell through reality she was, calm. Even though she wouldn’t admit it, even Amanda Waller would break down if she landed on the wrong plane of existence, but this woman… This woman was something else, she had to speak with her. “You have a line to her?” Amanda asked toward the agent overseeing the interview, without taking her eyes off of Jean. “Indeed.” The agent handed over a small ear microphone. “When you’re done with her, send her to me. Make it sound like I’m the only one who can help her.” Jewelee acknowledged the window with a glance and began snapping at the other woman to bring her back to attention. Amanda watched Jean leave the room as she made a direct line to the office with a renewed confidence. Amanda could not wait to test it.


	6. Contain The Aggression by Your Usual Means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart  
> Ch. 2 - "Sex (I'm A)" by Berlin.  
> Ch. 3 - "Oye Como Va" by Santana  
> Ch. 4 - "You Better Run" by Pat Benatar  
> Ch. 5 - "Shining Star" by Earth Wind and Fire  
>  **Ch. 6 - "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting" by Elton John**
> 
> *Additionally: "Mony Mony" by Billy Idol, "Runaway" by Bon Jovi

_ Well, solved that mystery.  _ Jean Grey awoke softly on a bench in an ARGUS facility helpfully labeled “Armory.” Her head hurt too much to move so she just lied there recalling the scent of Amanda Waller’s office. It was an odd thing to remember, but the distinct perfumes and cleaning solvents mixed into an intoxicating aroma. She would give it credit for her outburst, but she was too proud for that. “I hear you over there,” Jean interjected to the man leaning by the door who was thinking about her position. She was just glad her powers had restored. “Sorry,” the man replied with an amused chuckle. “Can’t blame me too much.” Jean sat up to address the man, “I can. I really can Mr. Lawton.” He approached maintaining his smirk, “Friends call me Floyd.” She ignored his extended hand, “Good to know, Mr. Lawton.” He played it off as best as he could, but he clearly wasn’t ready for that one. “Fine then, miss…” “Jean Grey.” “Ms. Grey, The Wall said to suit you up, so,” he gestured toward some lockers in the room, “Pick your poison.” He left, and Jean made sure he was gone before disrobing. She crossed the room to the lockers and opened one in the middle. She picked a light, armor lined, camouflaged yellow and green flavored jump suit.  _ Of course… _

She followed the path out of the armory and made her way down the hall back to what looked like the lobby, and got a few stares for her efforts. Normally she would condemn this kind of behavior, and she did, but there were more pertinent matters at hand. “Ms. Grey, how kind of you to join us.” Amanda Waller was already giving orders to the diverse line-up before her. “Zytle and Jones, once the breach has begun you will contain the aggression by your usual means.” The hulking man from before got excited by this and almost ran to the nearby armored truck while the syringe wielder simply nodded and sauntered forward hardly looking up from the folder he carried. “Grey, you will be infiltrating the building through the south side along-side Mr. Lawton.”  _ Fantastic,  _ Jean thought. “Fantastic,” Lawton smirked. “If you make it back Ms. Grey we will discuss your situation further.” “Hey wait what are we— “but Amanda Waller was already gone. “Don’t worry girl, I’ll catch you up on the way.” The comment got him about as far as the ground. Jean made her way into the truck and noticed that in addition to the Scaled Avenger and Doctor Folder they were joined by the de-jeweled driver. “If you ain’t got your rock wha’ use you gonna be in the field?” scaly challenged. Jewelee meet the comment with a finger for thought, but it didn’t look like she would be getting much. Jean found her seat and strapped in. Her seat belt usage managed to get a laugh out of the doctor. “She’s got the right of it, safety first Count.” Floyd Lawton had brushed of his ‘trip’ and took the seat next to Jean, mimicking her. He passed her an ear piece and continued, “So ‘Seat Belt’ what exactly are your qualifications?” While she wasn’t thrilled by her new nickname it was better than the terms in which everyone else was thinking of her. “X-Men, X-Factor, and now I guess Task Force X.” Lawton let out his now trademark smirk/laugh, “They didn’t tell you did they?” “Tell me what?” Jean inquired. “This ain’t no task force,” he shifted his eyes across the truck as the engine started, “It’s a goddamn Suicide Squad.”

A silence and collection of side glances swarmed the truck. “Well,” Jean broke the silence, “Fuck.” She threw a hand in the air and slouched back into the chair. “Weren’t gonna let it go were you D?” Lawton leaned forward and responded to the man across from him, “No C, I guess I wasn’t.” “We’re here!” was called out by the driver who shut down the vehicle and opened the back door. “Wait what are we doing? What happened to my explanation?” Lawton and the others were already lined up at the back latch while Jean was still strapped in. “Just follow me and don’t get seen,” he called out over his shoulder as she scrambled to get in behind him. They filed out and came to be in the underground lot of a tall business complex in the dead-center of an Opal City. Jean pulled this and whatever else about their mission she could from her teammates. Apparently they were meant to infiltrate up the skyscraper to a top floor penthouse and kill somebody who was holding the building hostage with explosions. Jean had no interest in knowing the rest of the plan, this wasn’t her world and it may seem selfish, but she just wanted to get home. She followed the hand motions that Lawton was giving her to follow and keep quite; he seemed to miss the memo that she could hear what he was thinking, not that it was much clearer. They rounded corner after corner up the complex, undetected, until about the fifth floor. “Stop.” Jean put out her hand to hold back her partner. The sudden stop clearly agitated him, “What?!” “Shut-up,” she kept her voice low, “I’ve got a group of five ahead.” “Well,” he grinned a little too much and raised his long rifle, “Blows for them.” Before she could stop him he turned the corner and lived up to his namesake.  _ Bang Bang Bang.  _ Every death rippled through her, but Jean had no time to ponder existential. “Come on ‘Seat Belt’.” She turned to corner and followed him to an awkward elevator ride. Reaching the top floor was easy. What was less easy was Lawton being knocked unconscious five steps out of the elevator. Jean stopped shots from reaching her with instinctual simplicity, and she flung them back at their creators— legs of course. Suddenly leagues of men and women of a nefarious nature filed down the hall from the penthouse, and Jean got into it. Punches, kicks, slaps, snaps, bashes, crashes, and a final forceful push and the bodies piled up through the penthouses double doors. A wiry man was standing at the spanning glass windows with a trigger in hand. He panicked and began franticly pulling at the inert activation device, apparently team B was successful. Jean paused for a minute and made a decision. She flicked the little man through the window pane. It was a sight she missed, and she would feel bad, but was this world even real? Did it matter if you kill in a fake world? She began smiling, she knew she would regret this in the worst hangover ever, but for tonight she smiled.


	7. You Called

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist So Far:  
> Ch. 1 - "Sunglasses At Night" by Corey Hart  
> Ch. 2 - "Sex (I'm A)" by Berlin.  
> Ch. 3 - "Oye Como Va" by Santana  
> Ch. 4 - "You Better Run" by Pat Benatar  
> Ch. 5 - "Shining Star" by Earth Wind and Fire  
> Ch. 6 - "Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting" by Elton John  
>  **Ch. 7 - "Get Down Saturday Night" by Oliver Cheatham**
> 
> And So concludes Act I

“You called?” 

“Yea, sit down.” 

Jean Grey had been called to Amanda Waller’s quarters some three hours after the team returned to the ARGUS complex. Jean had slept fairly soundly for those three hours, and was awoken by a fairly pleasant thought from the direction of the mini-estate. She was gleeful, for a multitude for reasons, not the least of which being Amanda’s minimal state of dress. She had traded her business attire for a lightly sequined blue night slip. Jean took the large relaxation chair next to her superior’s. “The fire’s nice,” she offered waving toward the elegant fireplace in front of them. “Perks of being the boss,” responded Amanda with an air of sarcasm that seemed to always flow in her voice. She drank from her vodka glass and pushed the bottle on the center table toward Jean. “Congratulations on your kill, was worried you were one of the hero types that wouldn’t do it.” Jean poured her glass and felt a twinge of morality at the accusation. She was confident in her choices not mattering, this wasn’t her world. “If it hadn’t been me, it would have been one of your others.” Amanda looked up feigning surprise, “But it wasn’t one of them, it was you.” Amanda’s quick response rang the bells in Jean’s stomach louder than they had been in a long time. “Yea, well it’s nice to blow off steam.” Amanda swirled her drink, downed it, then stood up. “That it is.” With this she walked away from their seats to her bed. Jean craned her neck a bit to follow the glorious woman. Then, putting on the best show she could, Amanda Waller dropped her slip, and fingered for Jean to join her.

Jean hid her stunned expression as best she could. She wasn’t about to stop this from happening. She almost climbed over her chair to get at the glorious woman, but stopped. Some two feet from the bed Jean was being held by the mystic force that was Amanda Waller’s stern gaze. Amanda reclined on the bed and rose her brow to the hungry woman. She pointed toward the other side of the room, beckoning Jean to turn down the light switch by the door. Jean looked in the direction of the finger and understood. Jean turned to the door and in the moment realized how far it was, and that the way back would be torture. Then she had a thought. Jean was wearing a fairly fetching pair of khaki cigarette pants and and a sleeveless, high-neck crop top. She worked it, she knew it. and she could abuse the hell out of it. She began what she knew would be a painfully slow saunter toward the door, popping her hips a little more with each step, be damned if she would be the only one suffering. By the time she reached the switch sweat had begun to form on her forehead. This was happening. Jean lowered the switch to sexy and swiveled around. At this point Amanda had crawled up onto the bed with her back resting against the headboard. Even knowing the pure sex that was behind her Jean was taken aback at the sight. Amanda Waller was delectable, and she knew it. She curled a finger to reel Jean back in. The eager redhead made a quick step forward then caught herself, she couldn’t let it be that easy. She stood her ground and, striking the most smoldering face she could muster, she crossed her arms across her waist and inched the top over her head. For the few seconds that Jean’s vision was blocked by her shirt Amanda’s mouth was agape. She wasn’t ready to be disobeyed, not that she ever was. Jean dropped her top to the floor and raised her arms in several exaggerated poses to accentuate the tightness of her borrowed brassiere. She took a single step forward and stopped, pausing to relish the slight crinkle it caused in Amanda’s eye. She took a few more rhythmic struts forward and began to lightly dip her body in time with the song in her head. There was no way it looked as elegant as it felt, but Amanda’s mind was on fire, along with other places. Jean kicked off her flats on sequential up-steps, and hooked her thumbs in the waist of her ever lingering pants. With only a few more steps she was a foot from the foot of the bed. She began teasingly tapping her outer fingers against the front of her irritatingly stationary pants. Amanda was now visibly furious. She shouldn’t have been so quick to disrobe. Jean was loving this and wanted to see how far she could push it. “Help,” escaped the standing woman’s lips. She would make Amanda come to her, see how she likes it. 

Amanda’s heated desire very nearly became rage in that instant. She had so rarely in life lost position as boss, but she couldn’t help herself. After a moment to make sure she was serious Amanda begrudgingly crawled forward to the foot of the bed. Now upright, face to face with Jean, Amanda could see if she really meant it. But not a foot from her face Jean stood adamant, “If you want them off, take them off.” This she could work with, her own wants always appealed more to Amanda Waller. She slinked down as far as necessary and took each hand in her own, finally quelling the begging taps. She whisked the pants down with almost aggravating ease and revealed, well, nothing. Jean Grey wasn't wearing panties and left the perplexed Amanda eyeing up at the grinning woman. Amanda shot back upright and stared daggers into the giggling woman’s eyes, trying to understand why she would have answered her summons with such a puzzling ensemble, then it dawned on her, 

“Fuck mind readers.” 

At that Jean gave her a tension breaking hard kiss. Jean pulled back, tried to make her victory smile smaller, pointed down at her bare self and shot back,

“But also...”


End file.
